It was teatime by the time they settled into their suites. Scottie in Suite 401. Gemma in Suite 402, which came with a puppy play area. Very swank. Even Chandler thought so.
A porter from concierge named Arnez arrived with tea and cakes, then gave Gemma a tour of her quarters, showing her the hidden refrigerator, the dressing room, which was overkill, and how the shower, internet, and TV worked.
He pointed out the large binder with flyers from touring companies and restaurants and every possible thing a body could want to do or see in one of Europe’s oldest cities.
When he was assured of Gemma’s complete satisfaction, Arnez bid her a good afternoon then paused by the door.
“Begging your pardon, but have we met before?” he said. “I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I don’t think so. This is my first time to Port Fressa. Ever been to Hearts Bend, Tennessee?”
“Never heard of it.”
“There might have been a photo of me with Prince John. Online. But we’re just friends, nothing more.”
“Don’t care squat about the royals. I’m a RECO man.” In his early twenties, he seemed intelligent but edgy, an independent thinker, with a bit of hipster thrown in.
“RECO man?”
“Member of the Renaissance Coalition to remove the monarchy, peacefully of course, in favor of a full-on republic. Why should the House of Blue rule for a thousand years? What gives them the right?”
“The law?” Gemma took a shot.
Arnez laughed. “I like you. Spunky. Now, where have we met? I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I was in a popular commercial a few years ago.” Five, no six years. Already. Goodness. “During the American Super Bowl. I was the chip dip girl.”
“I don’t follow sports, especially American football.”
“It was all over the internet.”
“Yes, then that must be it. Only one commercial?”
“Several but that was the most popular. My hands, feet, and hair also appeared in several commercials.”
“You’re an actress? In Hollywood?” Arnez’s interest seemed genuine. A bit of his swank hotel veneer faded. “I’d love to be in film and television.”
“Former actress. I left California. If it’s what you want, work hard and stay with it.”
“Why didn’t you stay with it?”
“I had other priorities.”
“Ring if you need anything.” But before disappearing, Arnez leaned around for a final study of her face, shook his head, and was gone.
His brief final inspection left her shaking. Moments like this were exactly why she’d never, ever be on a world stage. Ten years ago it was all she wanted. Now she’d live in constant fear that if she became known, she’d end up notorious. For all the wrong reasons.
In the meantime, she’d pour a cup of tea, eat one of the delicious cinnamon-looking treats, and let Chandler out of his crate. He was starting to stir.
Gemma stored her suitcase in the bedroom—she didn’t bother to unpack—then let Chandler into his play area.
She’d slept and showered on the plane, so she was ready to go out, explore Port Fressa. It’d long been one of her bucket list cities.
Around five, Scottie knocked. “John is sending a car.”
“Good. I’ve been thinking you could take Chandler to him.”
“Instead of you? He knows you came with me because I begged you. Now get ready.”
